The Haunting Of Dinkley
by thartman1956
Summary: A fan fic based on where take all my interests and throw them together in one big pot. Rated "T" or MPAA "PG." Please read and review!
1. Story Introduction

**THE HAUNTING OF DINKLEY**

**Introduction and Cast of Characters** **Setup**

This is a fan fic based on my virtual railroad simulator game. It is set in the vicinity of Springfield, Jacksonville, and Decatur, Illinois. Most of the action occurs at two places, Dinkley, a "wide" spot in the road, about 18 miles east of Springfield, and Rico, a town of 3,500, about 22 miles west of Springfield. Both "Dinkley" and "Rico" are imaginary places, but all other towns and political divisions named are real. All businesses named in this work are either fictitious, or had their names changed. All characters in this work are also fictitious. "Dinkley" is a tiny hamlet with slightly more people than one can count on their hands. It consists of a grain elevator, about a half dozen houses, a United Methodist church, and a farm supply store, Ivorson's which will be the center of attention later on in this work. Dinkley is the site of a freight train derailment involving "haz mat" (hazardous materials, in this case, chlorine gas), which sets this mystery in motion. This wreck is soon discovered to be caused by sabotage when an unknown person or persons divert the train into a siding occupied by grain cars, and a collision ensues. The gang investigates and discovers that a headless ghost of one of Velma's ancestors who was killed in a thrashing machine boiler explosion in the late 19th century haunts the place.

The other center of activity is at "Rico", which on the surface appears to be a typical Midwest farming village. What sets this town apart is that an unusually high percentage of the town's 3,500 residents (about 25) are of Puerto Rican heritage. It is also the home of the "Casa de Salsa" nightclub; an establishment that offers live tropical Latin music and dancing on Friday and Saturday nights. The club is on the town's Main Street; practically next to the railroad tracks (the same line that passes through Dinkley). The management of this club claims that the passing of trains disrupts their live shows, so they have worked out a "deal" with the railroad; when Latin music shows are in progress, all freight trains approaching Rico will stop outside of town and wait until an intermission can be scheduled, then the trains can proceed through town. The gang learns that two weeks prior, the Rico station operator failed to observe this "deal" and let a train through, disrupting the club's show, and upsetting the performers, the patrons, and the club's management. The gang wonders if someone connected with the club had something to do with the Dinkley wreck.

This story is 100 percent Scrappy free, 100 percent naked mole rat free (though there are a couple of indirect references to "Kim Possible," see if you can recognize them), and most importantly, 100 percent Verona free! The main Scooby-Doo characters, Uncle John, and Uncle Cosmo, and the "Hex Girls"are copyright and trademarks of Hanna-Barbera/Time Warner. All other characters are products of my imagination.

**Cast of Characters**

John Dinkley, Velma's uncle (seen in the 1977 episode "The Curse of Viking Lake") Railroad engineer. Used to live at Dinkley (in the Byron and Zelda Dinkley homestead) until his wife Edna passed away, now makes his home at Decatur, Illinois. Began his railroad career as a mortorman for the interurban; then after passenger service was abandoned, began switching cars at the Decatur yards. When the "Illinois Traction" was bought out by a big Virginia based railroad, he began making main line runs, hauling freight trains from Decatur to Moberly, Missouri.

Wendell Smith, railroad conductor and John's friend. Lives in Moberly, Missouri. Wendell was John's conductor and was in the cab of John's locomotive the night of the Dinkley derailment. Wendell was commenting about how his teen daughter, Michelle, was just accepted into Stanford, and was flying out with her to Stanford the following week. (Velma is a graduate of Stanford). Both men are badly injured in the wreck.

Dave Dikes, FBI Agent, assigned to the Chicago Regional Office. Conducted a seminar for young detectives in Chicago, which Mystery, Inc. attended. Velma has "taken a liking" to this agent, which resembles a young Scully from the "X-Files". Dikes assists the gang in their investigation.

Gil Lopez. Conga drummer, singer, and leader of his "Musica de la Salsa" Latin dance band. A native of Puerto Rico, he grew up in the _barrios _in New York City where he learned to play the drums and started his combo. Lopez's band has played for Daphne's father, George, at several of his social functions. Young and striking handsome, Daphne at one point, flirts with Lopez, making Fred somewhat jealous.

Oscar Martinez, owner of the Casa de Salsa club. The building in which this club is situated was originally in San Juan, Puerto Rico, in the way of a resort hotel project. Martinez had the building dismantled piece by piece and reconstructed on the site on which it now occupies in Rico.

Ricky Barretto, equipment and stage manager for the Casa de Salsa club. Maintains the sound and lights and helps with the setup before shows. He was absent from work the night of the Dinkley wreck, leading the gang to suspect him of being involved in the derailment.

Ron Richardson, Rico station operator. Knows John Dinkley well. His job is to control the signals, switches, and the movement of trains in the Rico area, under the supervision of the train dispatcher based at Decatur. He informs the gang of the incident two weeks prior in which he "let" a train through during one of the club's shows, causing the club's stage manager to call him up and scream at him in Spanish for a solid five minutes.

Pearl Mintz, Dinkley resident. A regular "Minnie Pearl" type. Pearl is the one who informs the gang that a ghost haunts the hamlet of Dinkley, which began showing up after Jerry Ivorson announced plans to expand his farm supply store. Pearl knows John and mistakes Velma for his daughter.

Jerry Ivorson. Owner of the "Ivorson Stores" chain of farm supply outlets, which specializes in animal feed, seed corn, fertilizers, and farm chemicals such as pesticides. Also has stores in the nearby towns of Mechanicsburg and Taylorville. Mr. Ivorson recently announced plans to expand his Dinkley store and move it across the road, to land currently occupied by two homes. Becomes a major suspect.

Charles O'Donnell, real estate agent. Owns City & Country Real Estate in the town of Buffalo, about three miles west of Dinkley. Mr. O'Donnell handles the real estate transactions for Mr. Ivorson.


	2. Arriving in Springfield

**THE HAUNTING OF DINKLEY**

_Historian's note: this story takes place between the events in "Scooby-Doo and the Cyber Chase" and the first season of "What's New Scooby-Doo." The gang would be in their "WNSD" garb._

**CHAPTER 1**

It was mid evening in early summer as the Mystery Machine traveled southward on Interstate 55, the main highway linking Chicago to St. Louis. The gang had attended a seminar for young detectives in Chicago, conducted by Dave Dikes, a field investigator with the FBI's Chicago regional office. They had a great time. Many of the other young mystery clubs was also in attendance, including members of Clue Club, the Teen Angels, and even Butch Cassidy's group showed up. Everyone enjoyed each other's company, swapping tales of their adventures, "war stories" as they called them. And everyone agreed that the seminars were most informative. But now as the multi-colored van headed south on I-55, night had fallen, and everyone was growing tired.

"Gee, I don't think we're going to make St. Louis by a decent hour," Fred Jones, the leader of Mystery, Inc. said. "Velma, do you think you can find us a place to stay for the night nearby?'

"I'll do what I can," Velma Dinkley, the brown haired, brainy, bespectacled girl replied. With that she took out her own laptop computer, complete with wireless Internet access and connected to the Web. "According to the GPS, we're getting close to Springfield, about 15 miles away. There should be plenty of hotels there."

"Springfield?" Shaggy Rogers, the "hippy beatnik" of the group responded. "Like maybe we'll see the Simpsons there!"

"Reah, Rimpsons!" said Scooby-Doo, Shaggy's pet Great Dame and mascot of Mystery, Inc said.

"Don't be silly, Shaggy," Daphne Blake, the young, red head beauty giggled. "The Simpsons aren't real. Besides, I think if they're were, they would live in a different Springfield."

"Springfield is the capital of Illinois," Velma said, looking up from her laptop. "It's also where Abraham Lincoln spent his adult life, practicing law before he successfully ran for President in 1860. After he was assassinated in 1865 by John Wiles Booth at Ford's Theater in Washington, his body was returned to Springfield, where he is buried in Oak Ridge Cemetery on the north side of the city." She paused, then turned back to her computer. "Gang," she added, "I just got us two rooms at the Novell Motel, at the corner of MacArthur and Wabash Avenues, across from the Wal-Mart. Got a miniature kitchen and a full bath in every room, and even has a swimming pool. And Scooby would be welcome." She proceeded to print out a map and handed it to Fred.

"Kitchen?" Shaggy said. "Like, good deal!" to which Scooby added, "Reah!"

"Across from a Wal-Mart?" Daphne said, slightly disappointed. "Too bad it couldn't be across the street from a 'Club Banana.' I'm almost out of 'Kissy Girl!'"

"It's settled, then," Fred told the group. "Novell Motel, here we come!"

Twenty minutes later, the Mystery Machine arrived at the motel on the city's southwest side. The gang quickly got checked in, the girls taking one room, the guys and Scooby the other. Fred had ordered four large pizzas to be delivered; one for him and the girls to share, and _three_ for Shaggy and Scooby. While they were waiting for their pizzas to arrive, Daphne and Velma were lounging in their rooms, talking.

"Gee, Vel," Daphne said, "You sure had 'eyes' for that Dikes character."

"Ah, get outta here," Velma said, teasing her friend. "He's kinda cute. And besides, can't a girl have a crush?"

"He was kind of handsome," Daphne replied, thumbing through the Springfield newspaper, looking for the fashion pages. She then found something in the paper that caught her eye, then exclaimed: "Jeepers! Gil Lopez! It's Gil Lopez!"

"Gil Lopez?" Velma asked. Who's this Gil…wait a minute…isn't he the Latin bandleader…kind of like Ricky Ricardo…plays for your father sometimes?"

"Why yes!" Daphne practically shouted with glee. "Plays the conga drums, a real Latin dreamboat!" She paused, then began reading out loud, "Live…Friday and Saturday Night …Gil Lopez and his Musica de la Salsa Orquestra at the Casa de Salsa Nightclub, Rico, Illinois…Music and dancing eight to midnight…Phone number…" She pulled a cell phone out of her purse and began dialing. "Casa de Salsa?…Uh uh…okay…four, please…good…will pick up at show…Blake…Daphne Blake." She then began to recite her credit card number (has it memorized, don't you know), then continued speaking, "…Directions, please…we're in Springfield at the Novell Motel…okay, straight west on old 36 to Rico, about 20 miles…turn right on Van Buren Street to Main, just before the tracks…left on Main…can park on the grass between Main and the tracks…good. Thank you. Gracias!" She flipped the lid on her cell phone, then turned to Velma and squealed in a tone as if she had found all the new spring fashions under her Christmas tree: "Jeepers! I got us tickets to Gil Lopez Show tomorrow night! I can hardly wait!"

"Uh, Daph, I hate to bust your bubble," Velma said, "but shouldn't you have talked to Fred first? He might have something else planned."

"He won't mind," Daphne said. "We got nothing better to do. Besides, it'd do him good to expand his musical knowledge. In fact, he'd probably love it." After a beat she gleefully added, "Must see GIL LOPEZ!" About that time, there came a knock on their door, Fred's voice calling, "Pizza's here!"

Daphne was right, Freddy didn't mind. In fact, he thought it'd be fun to see this show. Velma had gotten the gang's motel reservation extended through Saturday night. They were now gathered in Fred and Shaggy's room, chowing down on their pizzas. Fred was regaling the gang with a story about what happened when him and Daphne were driving along in the Mystery Machine.

"Remember, Daphne, that time when you and I were in the Mystery Machine and I 'accidentally' put on that Salsa…"

"Salsa?" Shaggy interrupted. "Where?"

"Reah, ralsa," Scooby replied. "Yummy!"

"Not the kind of salsa you eat, silly," Daphne said, giggling. "We're talking about the hot Latin dance music." But then realizing what Fred was getting at, asked, "Freddy, must you tell this story?"

"As I was saying," Fred continued, "I 'accidentally' put on that Latin CD, and you went wild!" to which Daphne sighed, "Oh boy!"

"I thought you had the 'hebbie gebbies!'" Fred added. "I had to put on some Irish folk music to get you calmed down!"

"Oh well," Daphne said, slightly embarrassed. "You know the sound of conga drums have that effect on me. That, photo booths, and roller coasters."

"Hey, wait a minute," Velma said. "I just thought of something. My Uncle John lives not far from here. Perhaps he could join us…"

"I'm sorry Velma," Daphne replied, "but he can't come to the show with us tomorrow night. I only got us four tickets."

"Oh, no, I didn't mean for him to come to the show with us," Velma said. "The show isn't till eight o'clock, so we've got all day to kill. He lives in Decatur, and that's only forty miles from here. Perhaps I could have him drive over here, show us the sights, maybe even have a picnic in the park…if he's not out on a run. Daph, may I borrow your cell phone?"

"Sure," Daphne said. Good thing I get free air time at nights and on weekends!"

"Thanks." Velma took the phone and began dialing. "Hello?…Uncle John?…It's me, Velma! Good to hear your voice again. Listen, I'm over in Springfield with my friends and I'm wondering if you could come over and visit with me…we're at the Novell Motel on MacArthur…You can?…Jinkies, that's wonderful! Okay, I'll see you in the morning. Love you, Uncle. Bye." She then turned to her friends and announced, "My uncle will be here about nine in the morning. I can't wait to see him again."

"I look forward to seeing him again, too," Fred replied. He then added, "Okay gang, it looks like we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Why don't we turn in and get some sleep. With everything planned for tomorrow, we're going to need it."

"Like sounds good to me, Fred," Shaggy said sleepily. "Come on, Scoob, let's get some shut eye. Good night."

"Good night, Shaggy," Fred said. And after wishing each other a good night, the gang retired to their rooms, and in no time at all, everyone was sound asleep.


	3. Train Wreck!

**CHAPTER 2**

The next morning turned out to be bright, warm, and clear, a perfect summer morning. True to his word, Velma's Uncle John arrived at the motel, driving over from Decatur in his 1972 Chevrolet pickup truck right around nine. Velma was very happy to see him; she threw him big bear hug. John was happy to see the rest of the gang, to; he remembered them from the Viking Lake mystery some years back. After grabbing a continental breakfast at the motel (John commenting that he had _never_ see two living things, namely Shaggy and Scooby, put away so much food in such a short period of time), everyone began an impromptu tour of Illinois' capital city. They first visited Lincoln's tomb at Oak Ridge Cemetery, drove by Lincoln's home near downtown, then briefly toured the capital building, after which they had a picnic lunch in Washington Park near the capital. It was a beautiful park, the rotunda of the capital building soaring majestically above the trees. During the picnic John regaled the gang with stories about his being a railroad engineer. He told them how he started on the interurban. Later, when the Illinois Traction converted do a "diesel" freight road, the told them about how he spent his years switching cars at the Decatur yards. Finally, after the "IT" was merged into a bigger system, he told the gang about how he began making mainline runs. But the topic he was most passionate about was his relations with one of Velma's other uncles, Cosmo, who John thought was a bit of a weirdo and whom he generally despised.

"Geez, I can't understand why Cosmo has to spend his time looking for archaeological evidence of extraterrestrial life," John was telling everyone. "What a waste of time and brains! And he's teaching his students this garbage? I say, the university should can him. Why there's no evidence, none what so ever that man came from extraterrestrial life. I believe that man was created by God, and that he sent his only Son Jesus Christ to die on the Cross for our sins."

"Thank you, 'Reverend' Dinkley," Velma said sarcastically. "Cosmo believes in what he believes in, and you believe what you believe in. Come on, why can't the two of you just get along? Every time we have a family gathering, you two end up in a shouting match. Why when Aunt Edna died, you practically threw him out of the funeral home!"

"That little weirdo had it coming," John told his niece. "And the time he sez to me that the railroads were dying: that if I wanted to haul freight, why couldn't I drive a semi instead? I showed him!"

"I remember that, at the family reunion in Coolsville, two years ago," Velma recalled. "You two started pushing and shoving, it took half the family to break it up. I bruised my shoulder trying to pull the two of you apart. Can we change the subject, please? I get depressed listening to stories about the two of you bickering."

"Okay," John said, taking the hint. He then recalled some of the vehicles he'd owned including a 1957 Chevy Bel Air and a '64 Impala.

"You had a '57 Chevy? Wow!" Fred exclaimed.

"Jeepers, a '57 Chevy. What a classic!" Daphne piped in. "Daddy has a '57 Chevy in his collection. Why did you get rid of it?"

"Didn't need it anymore," John replied. "Still a good car, figured some one else would put it to good use."

"And you had a '64 Impala?" Shaggy asked. "Like wow, man! That's a popular 'low rider' car!"

"Got rid of it for the same reason," John said. "But don't worry. I don't plan on getting rid of my '72 Chevy truck anytime soon. I still love driving it. I have a '98 Honda Accord I use for every day, but I plan on keeping my old truck until either I die or it dies."

"I should hope not," Fred said. '72 Chevy trucks are becoming classics, too." Right about then, John's cell phone chirped. "Hello," he answered. "Uh uh…139 train…okay…okay…due 4:30…I'll be there. Thank you. Bye." John turned to the gang and announced, "Boys and girls, I'm gonna to have to cut this short. I gotta get back to Decatur. I've been called to take a train out of Decatur to Moberly at 4:30. Wish I could stay a while long longer, but you know…Nice seeing all of you again. Take care."

"See you," the gang called in unison. John motioned Velma to come over. "Give me a hug." He said. Velma came over to John and gave him another big bear hug. "Bye, Uncle John," she said.

"Bye Velma. Take care," John said to his niece. He began walking to his truck, then turned to face Velma, and added, "If you see Cosmo, tell him that if he ever crosses me again, I gonna take one of my shotguns and stick it up his…"

"UNCLE!" Velma cried. "I'll do no such thing, and neither will you! Jinkies, Uncle, you don't have to like the man, but can you at least _tolerate_ him? I hate it when you talk like this!"

"Okay, I'll try, I'll try," John said to his niece. "I'll tolerate the man, but I don't have to like him. Later, Velma." She watched her uncle get into his truck and drive away. As she watched the truck disappear in the distance she muttered under her breath, "Jinkies, sometimes I worry about those two."

**LATER THAT AFTERNOON**

The gang stopped by the White Pines Mall on the city's far west side to shop for clothes to wear to the show. Velma and Shaggy decided they would wear their regular outfits to the event, Latin music not exactly being their cup of tea. Velma was still a bit worried by her uncle's parting words, but gradually came to the realization that her uncle was "all bark and no bite," as it were. He'd never harm Cosmo. Besides those two had a relationship not unlike that of the cat and mouse in the old Tom and Jerry cartoons. Those two were happiest when they were fighting, screaming opinions at each other. Knowing that made her feel a lot better.

Daphne, meanwhile, had selected a white Spanish maiden dress. Fred had wanted to wear a "zoot suit" to the show, but Daphne pointed out that would make him (and her) a laughing stock, and Daphne wanted no part of it. Instead, she suggested a Spanish "conquistador" outfit, not unlike that of a bullfighter, to which Fred was agreeable. After they bought their outfits, Daphne, by luck (of the Irish) just happened to find a "Club Banana" store and replenished her supply of "Kissy Girl." That done, the gang returned to the Novell Motel to change and get ready for the show.

**7:55 PM, DECATUR YARDS**

John Dinkley and his conductor Wendell Smith who also was his good friend boarded Dash-9 locomotive 8929. Behind the lead loco was a Dash-8, numbered 8696, and 89 car train of boxcars, tank cars, covered hoppers, and auto-racks. Train 139 originated in Bellevue, Ohio with cars mostly from industries in the Cleveland area. Upon reaching Fort Wayne, Indiana, it added a block of cars out of Detroit, mostly auto racks full of sedans, pickup trucks, and SUV's, along with boxcars filled with auto parts bound for Kansas City. It also added a block of cars from Cincinnati, but this block arrived in Fort Wayne late, thus tonight's 139, scheduled to arrive at Decatur at 4:30 didn't get in until after 7. Once there, yet another block of cars were added to the consist, mostly tankers full of corn syrup and vegetable oil from the local grain processing industries, bring the total car count to 51 loads and 38 empties. The carknockers were just finishing up the federally mandated 500-mile inspection as John and Wendell entered the cab. Just then the radio crackled to life: "DDC" (Decatur Dispatch Center) "to C&E, Extra 8929 West."

"This is Extra 8929 West. We copy you. Over," John replied. (On this, and many other railroads, freight trains even though they may operate on a daily basis, generally do not appear in the timetable, thus operate as a non-scheduled or "extra" train. The dispatcher and train crew of the 139 will refer to this train as "Extra 8929 West," the number being that of the lead locomotive. The "C&E" refers to "Conductor and Engineer."

"C&E, Extra 8929 West, you may proceed when ready on Number Two track to westbound home signal, Mosser Street. Be prepared to stop at Mosser Street. Amtrak 381 will overtake you and cross over onto single track there. Once the signal clears, you may follow 381. You may pick up some yellows, but he'll rapidly outpace you to Springfield, so you'll have nothing but high greens after a few miles. Once past Springfield, you'll have the railroad all to yourselves all the way to Hannibal. Just be ready for you know what at Rico. Have a safe trip. Over."

"We copy that, DDC. Over." John looked at his track warrant, a document that governs train movements over the railroad, not unlike the flight plan pilots file with the FAA. And sure enough, this instruction was there:

EFFECTIVE 0700PM THRU 1200AM, ALL TRAINS AND ENGINES, BOTH MAIN TRACKS, WILL BE PREPARED TO STOP AT HOME SIGNAL, EAST RICO CROSSOVER. IF STOP AND STAY SIGNAL IS ENCOUNTERED, OPERATOR, RICO WILL ADVISE AS TO ANTICIPATED LENGTH OF DELAY. DO NOT PROCEED PAST THIS POINT UNTIL SIGNAL CLEARS, OR EXPRESS PERMISSION OF TRAIN DISPATCHER IS RECEIVED.

"That's why I hate being assigned this run on Friday and Saturday nights," John complained. "We have to sit over there and wait until they get tired of playing bongo drums before letting us through. Oh, well." Right then, the Amtrak train the dispatcher spoke of overtook Extra 8929 West on the Number One track. John released the train and engine brakes on his locomotive, shoved the reverser lever into Forward, and notched the throttle into Run 1. And slowly, Extra 8929 West eased into motion.

**AT THAT MOMENT, 70 MILES WEST IN RICO**

Fred eased the Mystery Machine onto the grass between Main Street and the railroad tracks about a block west of the Casa de Salsa nightclub. (Scooby had to remain in the Mystery Machine, as the club didn't welcome dogs.) The street was jammed with cars, and a steady line of people steadily made their way into the club, a pair of Spanish style stucco buildings, which seemed out of place in an otherwise typical Midwest farming village. This building, the gang would later learn, originally stood in San Juan, Puerto Rico, and was threatened with demolition when a resort hotel was planned for the ground it stood on. Oscar Martinez, the club's owner, had the building dismantled, piece by piece, transported to the States, and reconstructed on this site. A companion building was later moved to the site and added to the original structure. Finally, the gang reached the door of the club. A bouncer greeted them. "Good evening _senors and senoritas._ Name and number of people in your party, please?" the bouncer asked with a heavy Spanish accent.

"Blake. Daphne Blake. Four," Daphne replied. The bouncer consulted what looked like a guestbook. The bouncer then turned to the group and replied, _"Si, senorita_. This way, please." The gang followed the bouncer into the Latin dance club who led them to a table next to the dance floor. _"Gracias, senors_ and _senoritas._ Enjoy the show," the bouncer said, bowed graciously, and returned to his post at the door. Right about then, Gil Lopez, conga drummer and leader of the "Musica de la Salsa Orquesta" noticed Daphne, winked, and came over to speak with her.

"_Estas muy requetebien esta noche, Daphne,"_ the young Puerto Rican bandleader said to her. Fred rolled his eyes in disgust.

"_Si senor. Gracias!"_ Daphne giggled.

"_Gracias_ for coming tonight, _senorita_ Daphne, Gil replied. "Ah, I see you brought friends here. Would you like to introduce them to me?"

"_Si, senor._ This is my boyfriend Freddy Jones, this is my best friend Velma Dinkley, and this here is another good friend of mine, Norville Rogers." The gang answered with a chorus of "Hi" and "Pleased to meet you."

"_Si, senors and senorita._ Pleased to meet you as well." Gil paused for a beat, then added, "I'd very much like to sit here and talk to you all, but it's about time for me to get up on stage. We're about to get started here. Enjoy the show." With that, he returned to the stage and took his place behind his drums. He looked in Daphne's direction and winked at her again. Fred then turned to Daphne and asked her, "How long have you known this, uh, Ricky Ricardo type?"

"Please don't be jealous, Freddy," Daphne replied. "Gil Lopez is an old friend of Daddy and me. He plays at many of Daddy's social functions." Right then Mr. Martinez stepped up to the microphone and began his introduction:

"_Senors and senoritas,_ Welcome to the Casa de Salsa. Tonight we have a real treat for you. Direct from New York City, one of the rising stars of Latin music, please let's give a BIG Casa de Salsa welcome to…GIL LOPEZ AND HIS MUSICA DE LA SALSA ORQUESTA!"

A mighty cheer went up. Gil immediately began pounding on his drums and launched into a driving Latin rhythm. The piano and horns quickly joined in, and Gil began singing in Spanish. Upon hearing the exotic rhythms, Daphne immediately stood up, grabbed Fred by the arm (almost pulling it out of its socket in the process), rushed onto the dance floor, and the two began to dance up a storm! Many other couples quickly joined them, and thus began an evening of tropical rhythms and dancing.

**25 MINUTES LATER, ABOARD EXTRA 8929 WEST, APPROACHING DINKLEY**

Extra 8929 West, the 139 train was rolling westbound at 55 miles per hour. Amtrak 381 "The Pride of the Prairie" had caused a brief delay at Mosser Street on Decatur's West Side as it crossed over onto single track ahead of the 139. But now the Amtrak was miles ahead of the 139, and was in fact, clearing the main line at WABAL interlocking in Springfield, on its way into the station there, where it would terminate its run. 139 now had the railroad all to itself and would not have to follow another train or meet any opposing train until it reached the Mississippi River at Hannibal. Aboard Engine 8929's cab, John and Wendell was discussing the fact that Wendell's teenage daughter, Michelle had just been accepted into Stanford University.

So, your daughter got into Stanford, Wen," John said to his friend. "Congratulations. It's a good school. My niece graduated from there."

"Thanks, John," Wen replied. "She coulda gone to the University of Missouri at Columbia, Southeast Missouri State at Cape Girardeau, or Washington University in St. Louis, but she had her heart set on Stanford. I'm flying out there next week with her to tour the school"

"You know, I tried to get my niece Velma to attend college closer to home, too. She got accepted by Ohio State, Miami U. of Ohio, Princeton, the University of Michigan, and my personal choice, the UIUC over in Champaign. But like Michelle, she wanted to go to Stanford, and that's where she went. Can't say I blame her, though." Right then a trackside sign emblazoned with a black "W" came into view warning of a road crossing ahead. John gave the prescribed horn signal: two long blasts, followed by a short, followed by another long. Up ahead the tiny town of Dinkley came into view in the starry night, a grain elevator surrounded by a small cluster of houses. Between the train and the hamlet, a single green light on a trackside signal pierced the darkness.

"Signal three-nine-six-four, East Dinkley, clear!" John called.

"Signal three-nine-six-four, East Dinkley, clear," Wen repeated.

John then radioed the DDC the signal aspect: "This is Extra 8929 West at East Dinkley. Signal three-niner-six-four clear. Over." Almost immediately the DDC responded, " We copy, Extra 8929 West. Signal three-niner-six-four clear. Over."

"Roger, DDC. Extra 8929 West out," John responded. It was right about then that Wendell noticed something near the switch where a dead-end spur came off the main line that served the town's elevator. It was a glowing object, a spector. "Will you look at that," Wen gasped. "If I didn't know better, I'd say that was a ghost."

John saw it too, and commented, "Ah come on, Wen. There's no such thing as ghosts. Probably a kid pulling a practical joke." Both men glanced again, and the spector had vanished. Both men began to chuckle about the incident when suddenly, amid the high pitched squealing of wheel flanges in protest, the engine sharply curved to the right, then left, then straightened out again. "What the…" Wen exclaimed, surprised.

"We're on the siding!" John cried. He slammed the reverser into reverse, and dumped the air, putting the train into emergency.

"But that's not possible!" Wen responded. "That signal woulda been red back there!"

"We're never gonna stop in time. Get ready to jump for it!" John called out. Then he saw something in the headlights looming on the siding a short distance aheadtwo covered hopper grain cars which were loaded with soybeans from the elevator. "HIT THE DECK!" John screamed. "WE'RE GONNA"

A tremendous explosion of noise cut off John's warning as the 139 train slammed into the parked grain cars at 45 miles per hour-the sound of bending and tearing metal was laced with the shattering of glass, and the splintering of wood. This racket continued for several seconds as the cars behind the engines slammed into the wreckage and piled up. The entire area filled with twisted debris, spilled grain, and mangled metal, shrouded by a giant dust cloud. Then almost as suddenly, the noise abated and save for the barking of dogs in the tiny hamlet, all was silent. Then came shouting voices as the townspeople, literally shaken by the tremendous noise, came running out of their homes:

"Holy cow, there's been a train wreck!" "Somebody call nine-one-one!" "There's men trapped in the engine!" "We gotta try to get them outta there!" And so on. In the distance, a siren began to wail. But John and Wendell were aware of none of this as they lay within the smashed wreckage of the 8929, for both men were unconscious. And amid the tangled wreck lay a potentially deadly secret; a tank car loaded with poisonous chlorine gas.

**11:00 PM, CASA DE SALSA NIGHTCLUB, RICO**

Fred and Daphne had a wonderful time dancing Salsa that night. It left them happily drained, but united in mind, body, and spirit. Even Shaggy and Velma got out on the floor for a couple of dances. But it was now eleven and the band had switched to playing _boleros_, soft romantic love songs. They would have loved to stay, but since everyone was getting tired, Fred thought it was time to make the twenty-mile trip back to Springfield.

"Whew, what an evening," Fred told everyone as they piled back into the Mystery Machine. "I don't think I danced so much in one night since my high school prom!"

"I'll say," Daphne said. "If I wasn't so tired, I could have danced all night. Jeepers, I love that music."

"Well as for me, like I still prefer the Grateful Dead," Shaggy replied. Since Scooby had to be left in the van, Shaggy had obtained a big sack full of Spanish rice and beans and burritos for his pal. He proceeded to pour this food into Scooby's bowl. Scooby happily munched down this food. "Like the music they played in there was, uh, how should I put it, too weird, for my tastes, anyway."

"Thank you, Mr. Music Critic," Velma said sarcastically. "Where's your sense of adventure, of trying something new?"

"Well," Shaggy responded, "I didn't say I hated that 'bongo-congo' type of music. I just prefer something more American."

"Well, gang," Fred said, "I guess we'll have to settle for American music now." He started the van, turned on the radio and proceeded to back out onto the street.

"You've got 'Springfield's Hottest Hit Music' on your radio. We're about to kick off 25 minutes worth in just a second. We've got Britney Spears, The Back Street Boys, Simple Plan, and we'll kick off this set with the latest from the Hex Girls, 'Baby, You've Put a Hex on Me.' But first we're following a major news story. The town of Dinkley, in eastern Sangamon County, has been evacuated following a freight train derailment there earlier tonight."

"Gee, Velma," Daphne said. "I didn't know you had a town named after you!"

"Actually, it was named after one of my ancestors who moved here from Ohio," Velma replied. Then she hissed, " Shhhh, listen!"

The radio continued, "This evacuation was prompted by the discovery of a derailed tank car carrying chlorine gas. This car, though derailed is not leaking, and the evacuation is strictly a precautionary move. A shelter has been set up at the First Baptist Church in nearby Buffalo. Interstate 72 remains closed between the Buffalo and Illiopolis exits. We repeat, the tank car with the chlorine gas is not leaking and the evacuation is purely a precautionary measure.

"Details are sketchy at this time, but authorities believe the wreck was caused when the train was diverted onto a siding and collided with parked grain cars. Sabotage or vandalism is highly suspected. The two crew members aboard this train, engineer John Dinkley of Decatur, and conductor Wendell Smith of Moberly, Missouri were pulled from the wreckage, and was taken to a hospital here in Springfield. Their condition is described as serious, but stable…"

"UNCLE JOHN!" Velma cried. "OH MY GOD!" She then began to sob uncontrollably. Daphne leaned over and began to comfort her friend. "Who could do such a thing to my Uncle?" Velma kept asking between sobs. "Who?" No one else spoke a word the entire trip back to Springfield.


	4. Hospital Visitation

**CHAPTER 3**

Velma had a restless night, barely sleeping. And when she finally did fall asleep, she had a horrible nightmare. She dreamed about the time some years ago in the "haunted" Funland Amusement Park where a haywire robot named "Charlie" was chasing her and Scooby. She had lost her glasses and fallen into an electric cart, which "Danger Prone Daphne" had set into motion. She couldn't control the cart, which was headed for a crossing with the park's little railroad, and a train was coming! "Rain rumming," Scooby told Velma.

"Train coming?" Velma said. "I told you I can't stop. The train will just have to look out for itself!" No sooner than she said that than the quaint amusement park train transformed itself into a powerful diesel locomotive pulling a solid train of tank cars filled with hazardous materials. The train hit Velma's cart and exploded, unleashing its load of toxic chemicals. Velma fell out of bed screaming, "NOOOOOOOO!"

"It's okay, Velma, you were just having a bad dream, that's all," Daphne said to Velma, her friend's scream had awakened her. In fact Daphne was having a dream of her own; she dreamed that Gil Lopez and Freddy was fighting over her, that is until Velma's scream interrupted it.

When morning came, the gang decided to visit Uncle John, who was hospitalized at the Springfield Medical Center. Once there, Velma was allowed in to see her uncle (in fact, John had been asking for her), but the rest of the gang had to wait outside. Scooby, of course, had to remain in the Mystery Machine.

"Uncle John?" Velma asked as she entered the room.

"Velma," her uncle said in a weak voice. "Glad you could come and see me. No bear hugs today, though." Uncle John lay in his hospital bed, his left hand elevated and in a cast, and he had a cast on over his chest. He was also covered with numerous cuts and bruises. John had suffered several cracked ribs and a fractured wrist in the wreck.

"The doctors said I'll live, hon," John said to his niece, to which Velma gave a big sigh of relief.

"I'm happy to hear that, Uncle," Velma said. "How did it happen?"

"Fifty years on the railroad, and I've _never_ been in a wreck like this one," John told Velma. "Sure, I've put a car on the ground now and then, but those little derailments were always caused by bad track. Where were you when you found out about this?"

"Oh, we were coming out of the Casa de Salsa nightclub."

"You mean that 'bongo drum' club over in Rico?" John asked, somewhat irritated. "Well, let me tell you something. They don't like for us to blow through there when they're having one of their shows, so they throw a red board on us, and we have to sit and wait until they decide they need a break from their bongo drumming. Why, sometimes I've sat there for over an hour until they decide to have an intermission. Well, if trains bother them so much, why'd they have to put that club right next to the tracks for anyway?"

"Probably the only place they had for it," Velma answered. "And what's a 'red board?'"

"A red light, a stop signal," John said. "So when we finally get the green light, what I like to do is creep right up next to the club is, then apply full throttle and blare the horns just to annoy them."

"That's not very nice," Velma told her uncle

"Well, it's not very nice what they do to us," John said. "And I'll tell you something else. Rico, a town of thirty-five hundred and half of it is them Puerto Ricans! We blow through there and I see kids walking down the street banging on their bongo drums, or standing on the corner pounding on their 'tom-toms.' I see that, and I like to give them a little toot on the horn."

"Puerto Ricans are Americans too, Uncle," Velma informed him. "They have just as much right to live in that town as anyone else."

"I know that," John answered. "And I have nothing against those people. But, geez, I just don't like to have to sit there and wait on their bongo drum shows. I've never heard about anything else like it. And oh, did you hear that just before the wreck, my conductor, Wendell claims to have seen a ghost?"

"No, I didn't," Velma said, somewhat taken aback by her uncle's revelation.

"Yeah," her uncle continued. "He saw this so-called ghost, and I may have seen it, too. Then right after that, we got put on the siding and POW! Now they're wondering if we'd been drinking or on dope. I've given my samples, so they'll know I'm 'clean.' Well, I've never violated 'Rule G,' the rule that prohibits anyone in train service from working under the influence. I've…" Right then the door opened and the doctor stepped into the room. Knowing that the doctor would ask her to leave so his patient could get his rest, Velma said, "Uncle, I'm glad you're going to be all right. Listen, you need your rest, so I'm going to leave right now. I'll check in on you later. Love you, uncle. Get well soon Bye."

"Love you too, Velma, later," John said. "Bye." Velma stepped out into the hallway and made her way to the waiting area where the gang was. "A ghost, eh?" Velma thought to herself. "Well girl, looks like you've got another mystery on your hands!"


	5. InvestigationRico

**CHAPTER 4**

Velma reported her findings of her "interview" with her Uncle John to the rest of the gang. Since a ghost was now involved, Mystery, Inc. would take the case. Of course, Shaggy and Scooby wanted no part of it. But since those two wasn't the ones making the decisions…

Once outside the hospital, Velma decided to call her FBI friend, Dave Dikes on how to proceed. By some miraculous coincidence, Dikes was assigned to the case as "chief investigator," and was in fact, approaching Springfield at this very moment. He would meet the gang at their motel.

Once Dikes arrived at the motel, a plan was hatched. Dikes would make the gang his "unofficial co-investigators." He would take Velma, Shaggy, and Scooby over to Dinkley where they would interview witnesses and search for clues. Fred and Daphne would return to the Casa de Salsa nightclub in Rico and interview the club's management about any problems they've had with the railroad.

**A HALF-HOUR LATER IN RICO**

Fred and Daphne entered Rico from the north, coming from Interstate 72 in the Mystery Machine. They entered the town on Petersburg Avenue, crossed the tracks, and then hung a left, turning east onto Main Street.

Rico, on the surface, looked any small Midwest farming town. It was the largest town between Springfield to the east, and Jacksonville, 18 miles to the west. There were two towering grain elevators, and the usual assortment of small businesses along Main Street. There was a boutique (which Daphne reminded herself to visit when she had the chance), a post office, a bank, a library, a grocery story, an insurance and real estate agency, and a doctor's clinic among other things. All these businesses lined the south side of the street, on the north side were, of course, the railroad tracks. And since this was Saturday morning, people were doing what people in small towns normally did on Saturdays. The majority of the people on the street appeared to be Anglo-Saxon, but a large number were Latinos, Puerto Ricans to be exact. Fred and Daphne also noticed that many of the signs on the stores were in Spanish. "I don't think I've seen so many signs in Spanish since the last time we were in Mexico," Daphne commented.

They drove on, and sure enough, just as Uncle John had predicted, they encountered a group of teenage Puerto Rican street musicians. Standing on the corner of Main and Division Streets, three boys and a girl were giving an impromptu street concert. The girl was singing (in Spanish), while the three boys were playing instruments; one was playing a guitar, another bongo drums, the third the congas. Finally, they arrived at the club. Since there wasn't near as many cars this morning as there were last night, they got a parking place right in front of the establishment. As they got out of the Mystery Machine, both could still hear the little street band a half block away. Right then, two vehicles passed by; a pickup truck, its radio blaring country music, followed by a mid 70's vintage muscle car, its sound system blasting out Latin Salsa. "Wow, talk about a 'melting pot,'" Fred quipped. "I wonder if we're in Mayberry or San Juan. Come on, let's go inside."

During the day, the Casa de Salsa served as a Latin and Caribbean themed bar and restaurant. The place was decorated with photographs, paintings, and other reminders of Puerto Rico. A Puerto Rican flag was attached to the wall behind the bar. Next to it, was a television, which was tuned to a Spanish language news channel, the volume muted. In the corner of the bar room was a jukebox, which was playing Latin music. Several customers, all Hispanic, populated the place. A balding, heavy set, mustached Latino man tended bar, Oscar Martinez, the same man who introduced Gil Lopez's band the night before. Fred and Daphne found a pair of seats at the bar and sat down. "Welcome, _senor_ and _senorita_. May I get you anything?" Oscar asked his newest customers.

Daphne answered first. "I'll have a Diet Coke, please."

"Would you like to have a rum and Diet Coke?" Oscar asked. "We're having a special on rum and Coke. That is, assuming you're at least 21."

"I am," Daphne said. She thought about Oscar's suggestion for a moment, then added, "No thanks. I'll just stick with the Diet Coke."

"Okay, your loss," Oscar said. Then turning to Fred, he asked, "And you, _senor?"_

"I'll take a Mountain Dew," Fred replied. "And don't bother with the glass; I like to drink it straight from the can."

"_Si, senor_. Coming right up." He reached under the bar. He then gave a can of Diet Coke and an ice filled glass to Daphne. He reached under the bar again and produced a can of Mountain Dew and handed it to Fred. "That'll be a dollar sixty," he said.

Fred reached into his wallet and pulled out two dollars. "Here, keep the change," Fred said to Oscar.

"_Gracias, senor_," Oscar said. He then turned to perform his other duties before Fred asked, "Excuse me, sir, but may we speak with the manager?"

Oscar turned and faced his young customers. "You're speaking with him. I'm Oscar Martinez, owner of this establishment. How may I be of assistance to you?"

Fred spoke first. "I'm Fred Jones, and this is Daphne Blake. We're private investigators with Mystery, Inc., and we'd like to ask you a few questions."

Oscar pondered. "Private 'eyes,' eh? What about?"

"We understand you've been having problems with the railroad," Fred said. "Care to elaborate?"

"We've have some now and then." Oscar said. "Trains coming through and interrupting our shows. Not so much the trains themselves, but their horns. But we worked out a deal with the railroad, so they don't bother as much as they did…" He paused for a beat, then added, "Hey, wait a minute. You don't think I had anything to do with that train wreck I've been hearing about?"

"We know you personally had nothing to do with it," Daphne said. "We saw you here last night, introducing the band."

Oscar seemed relieved. "I'm happy to hear that. And as owner, I like to personally introduce all our acts. And I'm also proud to say that we've had some big name Latin music artists here."

Daphne spoke again. "I'm curious about something, Mr. Martinez. Why are there so many Puerto Ricans in this town?"

"Who knows?" Oscar replied. "I do know that about 1976 or so, one Juan Salazar and his family moved here from Puerto Rico. They must have liked something about living here so they must have told friends what a great place this is to live, and convinced them to move here. These friends must have told their friends and so on. And since Puerto Ricans like to have lots of kids…" He smiled at his last statement, then continued, "You know, some of the Puerto Ricans living here didn't originally come directly from the island. They've lived in New York City, south Florida, or Chicago before moving here. And now, many of us were born and raised here." Daphne thought about Coolsville, where the Hispanic population had increased dramatically in recent years. But unlike here, most of the Latinos in Coolsville were Mexican Americans, with a few who immigrated from Central America or Colombia. Even so, Latinos made up only 10 or so of Coolsville's population.

"I ought to tell you something," Oscar said. "I'm not suggesting anything by telling you this, but my stage and equipment manager, Ricky Barretto didn't come to work last night."

"Oh?" Fred and Daphne asked in perfect unison.

"He asked to have last night off so he could take his mother to the airport in St. Louis," Oscar said. "He's a good worker, so I told him he could."

"Is he here now?" Fred asked.

"He is," Oscar said. "He should be working in the dance hall part."

"Thank you, Mr. Martinez," Fred said. "You've been a big help."

"_Si, senor. _Anytime," Oscar replied.

Fred and Daphne stood up, and taking their drinks with them, walked through an arched opening into the dance hall part of the club, where the live shows are held. The place, now devoid of patrons and dancers, seemed much larger than it did last night when they were here. The room measured about 120 feet long by 60 feet wide. On one end was a raised platform, the stage. And the walls were painted with murals depicting life in Puerto Rico. One of the most striking, Daphne commented, was a painting of couples dancing on a tropical beach while a combo played horns and pounded on Latin drums. On the stage, Gil Lopez and one of his other percussionists were tuning their drums. Gil would turn the tuning lug on his conga, tap on the drum a couple of times, then repeat the process. This went on until Gil noticed the two young detectives and went over to greet them.

"Ah, _senorita_ Daphne, what a pleasant surprise," Gil said to the young girl. "Enjoy my show last night?" Daphne blushed. Fred rolled his eyes and went, "Sheesh!"

"Loved it, Gil," Daphne said, a slight seductive tone to her voice. "Your rhythms are _so_ infectious, I couldn't stop dancing!"

"I am happy to hear that, Daphne," Gil replied.

"Okay, okay," Fred said, slightly annoyed at Daphne's attraction to this Puerto Rican drummer. "Where's Ricky Barretto?"

"You mean the stage manager?" Gil asked. "He's stepped outside, taking a ten minute cigar break." Ricky, the stage manager, liked to smoke El Producto cigars. But since the club adapted an indoor no-smoking policy, he had to step out back into the alley behind the club to indulge in this vice. While they waited for Ricky to return, Gil regaled Fred and Daphne with stories about life as a Salsa musician. While Gil was devoted to the tropical Latin music genre, he had done a little session work in the pop and rock field, including working with the Hex Girls. He told them about how he played the congas on the Girls' version of "Black Magic Woman," the Santana song. He then told of another Hex Girls song; "Warlock Lover," in which a teenage girl discovers her boyfriend is really a warlock. Mostly a standard rock song, there was a one minute interlude that was quite spooky. Set between the third verse and the final chorus, this interlude featured ghoulish guitar riffs, and a spooky mix of percussion including rock drums and cymbals, along with bongo and conga drums. Gil really enjoyed working with Luna on this song; in fact, he was credited as co-arranger. But despite of his forays into the world of pop/rock, Gil would never abandon performing traditional Salsa. "That's where my fan base is, that's what they expect of me, and if I did otherwise, I'd be betraying them," he told the two.

Right then, the stage door that led to the alley opened, and Ricky stepped inside. Ricky was of medium build, but seemed athletic looking. He was young, about 25, and he wore a backward baseball cap. Like most Puerto Rican males, he had a mustache. He walked to the corner of the stage, plugged in an electric soldering iron, grabbed his little tool box, and began opening the back of an amplifier. Fred and Daphne left Gil, and walked over to where Ricky was working.

"Excuse us, please," Daphne began, "but are you Ricky Barretto?"

"That's who I am, babe," Ricky answered. Daphne grimaced upon hearing the word "babe," but not wanting to create a scene, decided to ignore it.

"I'm Fred Jones," Fred said, "and this is my friend Daphne Blake. We're private investigators with Mystery, Inc., and we'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Sure, man," Ricky replied. "What questions do you need answered?"

"We understand you didn't come into work last night," Daphne said. "Do you want to tell us why?"

"Ah, man, Oscar sent private 'eyes' after me because I didn't come in last night?" Ricky asked. "I thought he told me I could have the night off."

"That's not why we're here," Daphne said. "We need to know where you were last night."

"I had to take my mother down to Lambert Field in St. Louis, so she could catch a flight to San Juan," Ricky replied.

"What time was this?" Fred asked.

"I left Rico here at four," Ricky answered. "Got there at about six, hung around the airport for a couple of hours, then got back to town here about ten-thirty."

"What flight did she fly out on?" Fred asked Ricky.

"Can't remember, man."

"Can you at least tell us what airline she flew on?" Daphne asked.

"I think it was Delta," Ricky said. "Or maybe it was American."

"I see," Fred said. "Hanging out around the airport, huh? Have you also hung out around any _railroads_ lately, especially near switches?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, man," Ricky said. Then the implications of Fred's last question struck him. "Ah, man, are you saying I caused that big train wreck I've been hearing about?"

"You tell us," Daphne said, her voice becoming a little huffy. "Your alibi has a hole so big, I could drive a _freight train_ through it. And let me tell you something else. My best friend's uncle is lying in a hospital bed because someone tampered with a switch and put the train he was driving onto a dead-end spur track. There were hazardous materials involved. Luckily, none of it spilled, or everyone in an entire town would be dead right now!"

"I didn't do it, man!" Ricky protested.

"Okay," Fred said. "I should tell you that we're working with the FBI on this case. I wouldn't leave town if I were you, because they may want to pay you a visit."

"I don't plan on it," Ricky replied, "because I have nothing to hide, man."

"Come on, Daphne, let's go." Fred and Daphne turned and began to make their way out of the club. But before they could reach the door, Gil motioned Daphne over to where he was on the stage.

"Ah, _senorita_ Daphne, leaving?" Gil asked.

"I'm afraid so, Gil." Daphne replied. "Hey listen, Daddy would like to have you perform for us again. His guests always seem to enjoy your music."

"And I enjoy playing for your Daddy, too," Gil said. "When he wants me, he knows how to get hold of my booking agent. I always look forward to performing at Blake Manor. And before you go, I have a little 'parting' gift for you." With that, Gil played a drum roll on his conga, and then launched into the same kind of hot Latin rhythm he opened last night's show with. His other percussionist joined him on the timbales and added cowbells to the exotic beat. Daphne stood there for a couple of seconds, then went into a wild dance. This went on for about fifteen seconds or so, before Fred decided he had enough, and yelled, "DAPHNE!" Silence.

"We don't have time for this," he told her. Then speaking to Gil: "We'd love to stay here and, uh, dance but we have a lot of work to do. Say goodbye to Mr. Lopez, Daphne."

"Say goodbye to Mr. Lopez, Daphne," Daphne parroted and giggled.

"Now, cut that out!" Fred said. "Come on, let's go."

The two exited the club and began to make their way to the town's railroad depot, katty-cornered across the street. No sooner then they got out the door, Fred asked Daphne, "Now what was _that_ all about?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Daphne replied. "Face it, Freddy, you're jealous."

"I am not," Fred responded.

"Yes you are!"

"I am not!"

"Yes you are!"

"Am not!"

"You are!"

"Sez who?"

"Sez me!" Daphne giggled again. "You know, Freddy, I think we found ourselves a suspect. Maybe even the _prime _suspect."

"I couldn't agree with you more," Fred answered. "His alibi is, at best, very flimsy. Think about it, he was away from here at the time of the derailment; he couldn't remember what airline his mother flew out on, let alone what flight. You know, I'll bet he didn't drive to St. Louis, he went to Dinkley instead."

"That's entirely possible," Daphne said, "But without any clues, we can't place him at the scene of the crime. I hope Velma and the others can find some." The two reached the depot, went inside, and headed for the ticket window. "May I help you?" the ticket agent asked. "There's a train for Kansas City, the "Mark Twain" that's comes in a couple of hours from now with a direct connection for Los Angeles. Sleeping car space is sold out, but I can get you two a pair of nice coach seats."

"We're not here to buy train tickets," Fred told the agent. "We'd like to talk to the man who controls the train movements through here."

"You mean the 'operator?'" the agent asked. He remained polite, but told the two, "You know, only authorized personnel are allowed in there."

"We're detectives investigating the Dinkley wreck," Daphne said. "And we would really like to speak with him."

The agent replied, "You know this is highly irregular and against protocol. Tell you what, I'll ask him and see if he wants to talk to you. No promises, though."

"Fair enough, " Fred said. The ticket man left his counter and entered the train operator's room. A moment later he exited the room and resumed his place behind the ticket window. Another man, who bore a resemblance to actor Dick Van Dyke (and spoke a little like him, too) poked his head out from behind the door and asked, "Is there anything I can help you two with?"

"I'm Daphne Blake, and this is Fred Jones. We're detectives and were investigating that wreck last night. And, we're friends of John Dinkley."

"Well then, come in," the man said. "Any friend of John Dinkley is a friend of mine. And your names, I think I've heard them somewhere before."

"Probably have," Fred replied. "We're with Mystery, Inc, the group that solves ghost mysteries."

"Hey, that's right," the man said. "John's niece speaks of them all the time. You're her friends?"

"In the flesh," Daphne replied.

"Well, I hope you can find out who did this to him." By the way, my name's Ron Richardson, and my job is to control the train traffic through here."

"Just the man we want to see," Fred said.

"John and me are best friends. Served in the Navy together during the Korean War. And I was a pallbearer at his wife Edna's funeral. Funny thing though, the night before, at the visitation, John's brother Cosmo was there. Well, Cosmo must have said something wrong, because John flares up and yells at him, 'Get outta here! Just get out!' As the funeral director ushered him out the door, Cosmo turns and gives John the _dirtiest_ look I've ever seen." Daphne nudged Fred on the side lightly and whispered to him, "Do you think Cosmo may somehow be mixed up in this?"

Fred took the hint. "Hey, I've never thought of that. Quite possible," he whispered. He then asked Ron, "Have you ever had trouble with that nightclub across the street?"

"Before I answer that, you kids need to have a look at this," Ron said. He motioned them to a large box sitting on a table with a series of lines drawn on it, along with levers and colored lights. This was the CTC (Centralized Traffic Control) board, through which the operator controlled the signals and powered switches in the Rico area. The lines represented the track configuration. Like a teacher pointing to places on a map during a geography lesson, Ron drew their attention to the far right side of the board.

"This here is East Rico Junction, about a mile and a half east of here where the line goes from single to double track." Here, a single line split into two parallel lines. Moving to the left, Ron then said, "And here, we have East Rico Crossover, just east of town here." Here, a slanted line joined the two parallel lines, a place where trains could "crossover" from one track to the other. Now, moving to the far left side of the board, Ron continued his lecture. "And finally, we have here West Rico Crossover at the west end of town." Again, a slanted line joined the two parallel lines. Above each powered junction was a two-position lever, its two positions were labeled "N" and "R" for normal and reversed, respectively. Within each crossover was a colored light, its color indicating the switch position-green for normal or red for reversed. Near each junction on the board was a "two-headed lollipop" with the heads stacked vertically, representing a trackside signal. Some of the "lollipops" were right side up, representing westbound signals; those upside down were eastbound signals. At each signal location on the board was a smaller two-position lever switch. The two positions on these levers were labeled "Auto" which set the signal aspect automatically depending on track switch setting and/or track occupancy, and "Stop" which set the signal to stop and stay. And between signal location, there was a track occupancy light that lit when a train or engine occupied that particular section of track.

Ron continued, "Two weeks ago, Friday night about six-thirty, the Decatur dispatcher informed me that the 139 train was passing by Iles interlocker westbound over in Springfield, and was coming my way. He asked me to line him onto the westbound track at East Rico Junction, which I did." He pointed again to East Rico Junction on the board. "Then he asked if the club over here was having a show that night. They were. Then he says to me, 'You know what to do then.'" He then pointed to East Rico Crossover. "If they were having a show, I was to set that signal to stop. Fact of the matter was, I just plain forgot. So about ten after seven, I hear the band playing across the street, and the sound of those 'tom-toms' they like to play, when the 139 radios me, 'You're going to let us come on through tonight? Thanks!' Right then I realized that I forgot to set that signal to stop. He was almost upon me, so I had no choice but to let him come on through. No sooner than the train passed then my phone rang. It was the club, and the guy just starts screaming at me in Spanish! I kept saying, 'Me no speak Spanish, me no speak Spanish.' Well he kept screaming in Spanish. Finally, when he decides to speak in English, he says, 'Why did you let that train through? You know our deal!' I tried apologizing to him. But that wasn't good enough for him, so he starts screaming in Spanish again. I hung up on him, but he must then have called Decatur, for five minutes later, the division superintendent calls me up and chews me out royally. Why I've never…" Right then there came a clanging sound, the bells on the Division Street crossing signal outside. An eastbound train was coming. "Better hold your ears, 'cause it's going to get a little noisy," Ron told the two young detectives. An air horn sounded in the distance to the west. The horn blared again, accompanied by a low-pitched throbbing sound, which was growing louder by the second. The blaring of the horn and the throbbing was now quite loud as the locomotives rushed by just outside at nearly 50 miles per hour, its horn creating a nice Doppler effect. The windows rattled. Following the engines were a solid train of trailers and containers riding on flat cars, an intermodal train. The racket was just short of deafening. Fred looked over at Daphne and shouted to her, "Let's see you dance to this beat!" But Daphne couldn't hear Fred's remark over the rushing noise just outside. After about a minute the train passed, its noise receding to the east.

"They must be about to get the line cleared if they're letting trains through," Ron said. Fred then asked Ron, "Who called you up that night you let the train through? Was it Mr. Martinez?"

Ron looked at Fred an told him, "No it wasn't Mr. Martinez. It was his stage manager, Mr. Barretto." Fred and Daphne looked at each other.

"Well, I think we got all the information we need, Mr. Richardson," Daphne said. "Thank you for your time."

"Anytime, my young friends," Ron said. "And again, I hope you find out who did this to John. _Nobody_ should have to go through that kind of wreck."

"We'll do our best," Fred replied. "We'll let ourselves out. Thanks." As they exited the station and made their way back to the Mystery Machine, Daphne said, "Wow. We came here looking for one suspect and came away with two."

"Mysteries are funny in that way, Daph," Fred replied. With that, they got into the van and drove off.


	6. Investigation Dinkley Busted!

**CHAPTER 5**

**DINKLEY, ILLINOIS**

Dave Dikes, the young FBI agent, drove into the sleepy hamlet of Dinkley in his government car, a Ford Taurus sedan. Accompanying him were Velma, Shaggy, and Scooby-Doo. The hamlet was anything but sleepy this Saturday morning. The entire place was crawling with railroad repair crews, law enforcement officers, and officials from the Nation Transportation Safety Board (NTSB). The tank car that held the chlorine had been rerailed without incident and hauled away, so residents of the town were being allowed to return to their homes. Dikes parked his FBI sedan near the railroad crossing and got out. Velma, Shaggy, and Scooby followed suit. They began to walk along the tracks towards the wreck site.

"You know, when I was first assigned this case, I thought, 'Aha, terrorism,'" Dikes told his group. "But then I realized that the MO was all wrong. "If foreign terrorists had done this, they would have wanted to cause the most causalities and collateral damage, meaning they would have carried out such an attack in a more densely populated area, not some out-of-the-way place like this. Then after you told me that story about the problems that Latin club has had with the railroad, I then thought of white supremacists. Taking advantage of that story, they would have caused this wreck and made it look like the Puerto Ricans at that club did it."

"With all due respect, I find two flaws in your theory, Dave," Velma said. "First, Rico is forty miles from here. If white supremacists or Puerto Ricans did this, wouldn't they have done it closer to Rico? Second, the involvement of a 'ghost' leads me to believe that our culprit and motive is more 'home grown.'"

"How so?" Dave asked.

Velma continued, "In my experience with ghost and monster mysteries, the supernatural being either scares someone away from something, or into doing something he or she wouldn't normally do. And almost always, they're after money, land, or some other precious commodity. That's why I think our culprit is local."

"I see your point," Dave said, "but I'm not going to totally rule out my other theory." He reached for his cell phone and called his "official co-investigator," Kathy Millens, an agent assigned to the FBI's Springfield field office. Millens told Dave that she had finished interviewing John and Wendell, and was heading over to Rico to interview the management of the Casa de Salsa club. When the conversation was finished, Velma asked to borrow Dave's cell phone to call Daphne. Though against protocol, Dave was agreeable to the request. Daphne informed Velma about Ricky Barretto's supposed "alibi." Daphne then asked Velma if there was any possibility that Cosmo was involved in causing the wreck. Velma said Cosmo couldn't have possibly done this; he had taken a group of his students to Costa Rica two weeks prior on an archeological dig, and that they would be spending most of the summer there. Cross off one suspect. Dave then called Kathy again and told her that upon interviewing Barretto, if she felt it was necessary to, have him taken into custody and held as a "material witness." Finally after some walking, the group reached the wreck scene. It was a tangled mess of metal, twisted rails, splintered ties, and other debris. The area reeked of diesel fuel. While most of the spilled soybeans from the grain cars had been cleaned up, enough of them remained to make the ground slippery. Velma slipped on the round kernels twice, Dave catching her both times. They then came to the crumbled remains of engine #8929. It was lying on its side, its nose was bashed in, and the windshield was shattered. It was through this opening that emergency workers pulled John and Wendell from the smashed remains of their cab. "I'm surprised anyone survived in there," Dave commented. Velma looked at the carnage and uttered, "Jinkies!" Shaggy had a similar reaction as he looked at the twisted mess and exclaimed, "Zoinks!"

Right then, one of the NTSB investigators came up to Dave and said, "We've recovered the 'black box' from the lead locomotive. We'll have it sent off to Washington for analysis immediately."

"Good job," Dave said. "Do that." He then turned to his group and said, "I hope you all feel up for walking, because we need to take a half-mile hike. Let's head over to the switch and see what we can find there." The four then began walking back the way they came to the switch about a half-mile away. Once there, they found a group of men, many of them wearing hard hats, standing around the switch and its mechanism. They were examining a metal box half buried in the ballast next to the switch throw lever. This box was connected to the switch lever mechanism by a metal conduit. Another NTSB investigator motioned Dave over to the mechanism, and began explaining his findings and conclusions.

"This is a manual hand throw switch," the NTSB official began. "To keep unauthorized persons from throwing the switch lever, it is secured with a padlock. Train crews have switch keys to open such padlocks in the course of their duties. Well, our 'perp' apparently used a pair of heavy-duty bolt cutters to cut off the padlock." He showed the cut padlock to Dave and his group. "Well the perp was pretty good, because he then fooled the signal system into thinking the switch was set for the main. Here's how." The official then opened the box and began pointing out its contents, and what they did.

"There's electrical contacts on the switch lever. When the switch lever is thrown, the contacts activate these relays. The relays would then set the signals controlling this block to red." He motioned to the trackside signals visible a half-mile to the east.

The NTSB official continued, "To trick the signal system into thinking this switch was lined for the main, the perp soldered 'jumper' wires between the relays. The lugs the wires are attached to are pretty heavy, so the perp had to use a propane blowtorch, the kind found in any hardware store. We found small pieces of rosin core solder near the switch lever and a small droplet of solder on the inside of the box. We're having the solder examined right now. And I want to show you one other thing." He pointed their attention to a metal mast that stood vertically from the switch lever mechanism, which rotated with the lever. Atop this mast was a lantern with red and green lenses set ninety degrees from each other. "When the switch is set for the main line, the green lens would be facing the train, and vice-versa. When we removed this lantern from the top of the switch stand, we found that the perp had also removed the light bulb. Since it was night, the train crew had no way of knowing that this switch was set for the siding."

"Interesting," Dave said, to which Velma added, "Jinkies." She turned, only to find Shaggy and Scooby had gone missing!

"I thought you had a 'hippy boy' and his dog with you," Dave said.

Velma said, "I'll bet I know where they went. Let's head over to the church." The two then made their way to the Dinkley United Methodist Church where the churchwomen had set up a "soup kitchen" to feed all the investigators and track workers swarming the place. Dave and Velma entered the basement of the church, and sure enough, there they were, with a huge stack of cold cuts, enough to give an elephant indigestion! "Shaggy! Scooby! What do think you're doing?" Velma called.

"Like, having lunch," Shaggy said. "All that walking made me hungry," to which Scooby added, "Reah!"

"_Everything_ makes you hungry, Shaggy," Velma said. "Come on, we've got work to do." Then turning to one of the churchwomen, Velma said, "I'm sorry these two practically ate all your food. We'll gladly buy you some more."

"That's all right," the churchwoman replied. "We've got plenty more. Think nothing of it. And remember, God loves you."

Dave then thought it would be a good idea to interview at least one of the town's residents. Perhaps he or she could provide some clues as to what happened. The group left the church and headed for a white frame house near the tracks, where Dave parked the FBI car. Sure enough, a middle aged woman was there, just having returned from the evacuation center. Dave went up to her and introduced himself.

"Pardon me, ma'am, but I'm Dave Dikes, Federal Bureau of Investigation, and these are my assistants. I'd like to ask you some questions about what happened here last night."

"Well, howwdeee! The woman said. "Name's Mrs. Pearl Mintz, and yes, I was here when that train wrecked last night." A regular Minnie Pearl, Velma thought.

"And who have here?" Pearl asked. Velma then introduced the rest of her gang. After greetings were exchanged, she then said to Velma, "I didn't know John had a daughter."

Velma laughed. "Actually, I'm his niece. You know John?"

Pearl said, "Know him? Why, we were practically neighbors. Lived in that house across the tracks, just behind the elevator, the Byron and Zelda Dinkley homestead. After his wife Edna died, John just upped and moved to Decatur."

Dave then asked Pearl, "Please tell us what you saw or heard last night."

"Well I didn't see what happened, but I sure heard it," Pearl began. "I heard this train, but it was making the weirdest noise, this squealing sound. It just didn't sound like any normal train. Next thing I know, there was this loud KA-BOOM! Shook the whole house! I knew right then and there that the train had wrecked. A few minutes later, the law comes and says we had to get out of here right now, that there was a tank car full of poison gas in the wreck."

"Chlorine," Velma said.

"The law told us to grab what we could and get out," Pearl continued. "Spent the night over in Buffalo at the shelter. They're just now letting us come home."

"There's been reports that a ghost haunts the area," Velma said. "What can you tell us about it?"

"You mean the ghost of Byron Dinkley?" Pearl replied.

Velma was taken aback by this response. "You mean this is the ghost of one of my ancestors? YOU'RE KIDDING!"

"I'm not kidding, " Pearl said. "It's a local legend around here. "In 1853, when they built the railroad through here, Byron and his young bride Zelda, took advance of the free land the railroad was offering to entice settlers to move here. He built that house where John lived. He also started a flourmill, which eventually became the grain elevator. He also farmed here. Well, in 1884, on Halloween's Day, Byron was using a steam powered thrashing machine to harvest his crop. Suddenly, the machine blew up, killing him instantly. It blew his body nearly fifty yards, and get this, they _never_ found his head. Not long after, according to legend, his ghost appeared, looking for a head to replace the one that was blown off."

"Wow!" Velma exclaimed.

"Like, zoinks!" Shaggy said. "It the legend of Sleepy Hallow all over again." To which Scooby added, "Rhost? Ro no!"

Velma remembered a mystery similar to this one some years back. One of Icabod Crane's descendants, Elwood had set up a headless horseman hoax based on the Sleepy Hallow legend to cover up the theft of his wife's jewels after his shoe company went broke. She remembered the role Scooby-Dum, Scooby's cousin had played in solving it. She couldn't help but smile at the thought.

"Well, I don't believe in ghosts," Dave Dikes said. Then he asked Pearl, "Has there been any other things going on around here of significance lately?"

Pearl responded, "Well, Mr. Ivorson who runs the feed store across the street announced plans to expand his business." She pointed to a metal shed like building across the street, which was emblazoned with the words, "Ivorson Stores." She then continued, "He said the wanted to move across the highway to where those two houses are. Come to think of it, the ghost appeared not long after that." She then pointed across the highway to where a pair of two-story homes stood; one was a brick suburban, the other a frame ranch style house. "Who lives in those houses?" Dave asked her.

"Charles Singer and Bob Nickels," Pearl replied. Then she glanced back towards the farm store and spied a man entering the business. "Oh, there's Mr. Ivorson now," she said "You can ask him about what's been going on around here."

"I think we will, " Dave told her. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Mintz. You've been a big help."

"Anytime," Pearl said.

Dave and his little group hiked across the street to the farm store. Mr. Ivorson was there, inspecting his establishment. Dave went up to the man and introduced himself.

"Excuse me, but I'm Dave Dikes and these are my assistants. I'm with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and I'd like to ask a few questions."

"Certainly," Mr. Ivorson said. "I'm Jerry Ivorson, and I own this business. I also have stores in Mechanicsburg and Taylorville. If you're asking about that train wreck, I can't help you there. I was in Mechanicsburg last night, watching my daughter's Pony League game."

"Well actually, Jerry, I wanted to ask you about your business, and your expansion plans," Dave said. "May we go into your office?"

"Sure." The group went into Jerry's office. "Now, what can I help you with?" he asked.

"Tell us about your expansion plans," Dave said.

"Well," Jerry began, "I have a thriving business here selling corn and soybean seeds, animal feeds and farm chemicals. Business has gotten to the point that I've outgrown this little building here. I also want to expand my product line to include blue jeans, Western wear, and horseman's supplies such as saddles. And I can't do that with this little building I've got here."

"I understand you want to move across the road to where those two houses are," Dave said. He pointed out the window to the homes. Then he asked, "Have the owners agreed to sell?"

"Actually, they've been a little reluctant," Jerry said. "I've upped my price, but they still don't want to sell out. Actually, I don't handle the land dealings here. That'd be my real estate agent."

"And who'd that be?" Dave asked.

"That be Charles O'Donnell of City & Country Real Estate over in Buffalo," Jerry said. "He handles all my land dealings."

"May we look around this place?" Dave now asked Jerry, to which he answered, "Sure." The group was just leaving the room when Velma noticed something under Jerry's desk. She peered under it, and there it was; a pair of heavy-duty bolt cutters, the same kind used to cut the switch padlock. "Jinkies, very interesting," she said to herself. She left the room and caught up to the rest of the group, which was now in the warehouse. She reported her finding to Dave, who then "excused" himself on the pretense of having to use the bathroom; actually he went into Jerry's office and examined the bolt cutters for himself. After a moment, he returned.

The warehouse was filled with rack shelving. On one side were crop seeds and farm chemicals such as herbicides, insecticides, and fertilizers. On the other were feeds for animals such as cattle, horses, hogs, and poultry. There were even Scooby Snacks, which made Scooby very happy! As they were looking around this warehouse, Velma found a bottle of a substance that seemed very out of place in a farm supply store. "Acme 'Glow-In-The-Dark' Costume Dye, distributed by Capital City Costume & Party Supply, Springfield, Illinois," the label read. "Jinkies, why would this be in a farm supply store?" she wondered. That wasn't the only thing out of place they found in there. On a shelf, they found four more incriminating items, practically next to each other; a propane blowtorch, a roll of heavy-duty rosin core solder, a spool of wire, the same kind used for the "jumper wires" found in the switch box, and a light bulb. Dave asked Jerry about these things.

"Do you sell party costumes, Jerry?"

"No I don't."

"They why do you have a bottle of costume dye?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've never seen that before."

"What about electrical and plumbing supplies, namely propane blowtorches, solder, and electrical wire?"

"Again, I don't know what you're talking about. I've never seen them before, either."

"Do you practice plumbing or wiring on the side, Jerry?'

"No I don't. I'm somewhat mechanically inept."

"And what about nuts and bolts. Do you sell those?'

"No, I don't. I refer customers wanting those things to the hardware store."

"Then, what are you doing with a pair of heavy-duty bolt cutters, Jerry?"

"I don't know. Look, I don't know what you're getting at with these questions."

"One last thing, Jerry. Where'd that light bulb come from?'

Jerry looked somewhat confused by all this. "I had to change the bulb in the bathroom yesterday," he said.

"I see," Dave said. With that they all headed for the bathroom. Once there, Dave pointed to a light fixture in the ceiling. Dave got up, stood on the toilet stool, and unscrewed the bulb that was in the fixture. He then tried replacing it with the one found in the warehouse. It wouldn't fit.

"Come with us, Jerry," Dave said. The group made their way out of the store and returned to the switch. Once there, he asked one of the NTSB investigators if he could see the switch lantern. He took the light bulb and tried screwing it into the lantern's socket. It fit perfectly.

"That's good enough for me," Dave said. "I think we've found our perp." Then to Jerry: "Turn around, put your hands on top your head, and spread your legs apart." Jerry's jaw dropped, and he hesitated. Dave then pulled a pistol out of his holster and pointed it at Jerry's head. "Do it now!" he demanded. "I won't hesitate to use this on you." After Jerry complied, Dave told him, "You're under arrest for tampering with railroad property, and interfering with interstate commerce…" Dave then proceeded to read Jerry Ivorson his rights. When he was finished, and he had the cuffs on, he asked Jerry if he wished to waive his right to remain silent.

"I'm not saying a word, except to say I'm innocent," Jerry said. Asked if he wanted an attorney, he said, "You bet I want my lawyer! I'm innocent!" Dave then motioned a Sangamon County Sheriff's deputy over. "Take him over to the county jail and book 'em," he told the officer. "Hold him there until we can get him transferred to the Federal lockup." As Jerry was being stuffed into the sheriff's car, he screamed at everyone within earshot: "I'll have all your badges for this! I'm innocent I tell you! INNOCENT!" The deputy yelled at Jerry, "SHUT UP!" as he got into the car and drove off with his prisoner. Dave then called Kathy Millens and told her that they now had a perp in custody. Kathy then told Dave that she felt it unnecessary to have Ricky Barretto picked up as a material witness; she had him placed under surveillance instead. Good, Dave told her, even though a suspect had now been arrested, he wanted Ricky kept under surveillance.

"You know, somehow I believe him," Velma told Dave after the suspect had been hauled off.

"Why do say that?" Dave asked her.

"Those clues were easy to find," Velma said. _"Too easy _if you ask me. In fact, I'd say those clues were planted. They were all practically in plain sight. And nobody leaves clues in plain sight…"

"Unless you want to frame someone!" Dave said, picking up Velma's line of reasoning. "But who'd want to frame Ivorson? The only other suspect we have is Ricky Barretto. And you said it yourself, he's forty miles away from here."

"I think we need to interview this Mr. O'Donnell," Velma said. "Since he handles the real estate transactions for Mr. Ivorson, he just might provide the missing pieces to the puzzle."

"I think you're right, " Dave said. Then he added, "Velma, you're a genius!"

Velma blushed. "You're just saying that for one reason," she replied, then after a beat added, "because it's true!"

Just as Dave, Velma, Shaggy, and Scooby piled into Dave's FBI car, Fred and Daphne arrived from Rico in the Mystery Machine. Velma informed the two of what had just gone down. It was then decided that Fred and Daphne would remain in Dinkley to look around, the others would go with Dave over to Buffalo and interview Mr. O'Donnell. Just as the FBI car was leaving, the same eastbound train that passed through Rico a while earlier now crept through Dinkley, the main line having been reopened.


	7. Meddling Kids!

**CHAPTER 6**

**A SHORT TIME LATER, BUFFALO, ILLINOIS**

The FBI sedan carrying Dave, Velma, Shaggy, and Scooby arrived in Buffalo. The village, three miles west of Dinkley, was considerably larger than Dinkley, but with 600 residents, represented only a slightly "wider spot in the road." The car pulled in front of the City & Country Real Estate Agency on the town's Main Street. But since it was now Saturday afternoon, the business was closed, having done so at noon. Dave then asked a passer-by where Charles O'Donnell lived. She gave an address, Dave thanked her, and they went on to Mr. O'Donnell's house.

When they arrived at the house, Dave went to the door and rang the bell. O'Donnell's wife Cindy answered the door. "Good afternoon, ma'am, I'm Dave Dikes of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and these are my assistants. May be speak with your husband, please?"

Cindy seemed perplexed by this. "FBI? Is he in some sort of trouble?"

"No ma'am, we just want to ask him some questions," Dave said.

"Come on in," the woman said. "Follow me." The group followed Cindy into the living room. Charles was sitting in a reclining easy chair watching television. A baseball game. Not just any baseball game, but the Chicago Cubs, who were playing the St. Louis Cardinals at Busch Stadium in St. Louis. The game was tied three to three in the ninth inning, bases empty, two outs, and Mark McGuire was coming to bat. Cindy called out to her husband, "Charlie! FBI's here to see you!"

"FBI?" Charlie asked. "Why does the FBI need to see me for?"

Dave then re-introduced himself and everyone in his group. Dave then answered, "We understand you handle the real estate dealings for Jerry Ivorson."

"True," Charlie replied. "Man, you sure can pick the worst possible times to come calling. I'm trying to watch this game." The count on McGuire was now one ball, one strike.

"I'm going to ask you to come down to your office so we can look into your records about Mr. Ivorson's real estate transactions."

"Now?" Charlie asked. "Can't I watch the end of this game first?" McGuire by now had fouled off about six straight pitches, making the count one ball, two strikes.

Dave replied, "Sir, I'm afraid this can't wait. In fact, we can get a search warrant real fast. It'd be better all around if you would just cooperate." Which probably wasn't true because Dave didn't have enough probable cause to obtain a search warrant. Dave hoped Charlie wouldn't know this and cooperate. Dave also decided not to tell Charlie that Jerry Ivorson had been arrested.

"Okay, okay," Charlie grumbled. "Honey, I've got to go down to the office for a few minutes. Be right back!" to which wife replied, "Okay, dear." No sooner than Charlie had gone out the door then there was a mighty crack as McGuire connected, and the announcer shouted: "There's a drive...if it stays fair…back…**back**…FAIR BALL! HOME RUN! CARDINALS WIN FOUR TO THREE! CARDINALS WIN! CARDINALS WIN! CARDINALS WIN…"

A few minutes later at the office, the group began rummaging through all the real estate transaction files. They searched for about a half-hour, finding nothing incriminating. They were about to give it up, when Velma decided to look through the garbage cans, just to be sure she hadn't missed anything. Sure enough, in one can, she found a wadded up scrap of paper that attracted her attention. She unfolded it and said to herself, "Jinkies! I think I got this mystery solved." She then took this piece of paper and put it inside her sweater. She then spoke to Dave about this "clue." Dave decided not to tip their hand. He thanked Charlie for his cooperation, saying that they'd be in touch if they needed anything more. Charlie, on the other hand, was not too happy a camper, having missed the end of the Cardinals game. "I _really_ wanted to see Mark McGuire hit that home run," he told the group unhappily.

**BACK IN DINKLEY**

Velma informed the gang of her "find" in the real estate office. It turned out to be a receipt. Dave picked up on this and called Kathy Millens to visit Capital City Costume & Party Supply and obtain a list of anyone within twenty miles of Dinkley who bought Acme Glow-In-The-Dark Costume Dye. He told her to drop the charges against Ivorson, but to continue holding him as a material witness. He also wanted the employment histories of Ivorson and O'Donnell. He wanted the information sent to Velma's laptop computer's e-mail address.

"I think I have a clear idea about who's been doing this, but we need to nab the 'ghost' to prove it," Fred told everyone. "And I've got a plan that'll do just that." He then led everyone to Ivorson's warehouse, and pointed to a loop of rope on the floor. "See that loop on the floor?" he asked. "The ghost will chase our bait in here, and get him to step into the loop. He'll then be hauled up by his feet, and then the net will drop down over him, and we'll have him!" He pointed to a net that hung from the rafters.

"Good idea, Freddy," Velma said. "Simple, too. I'll have to admit, I like this plan."

"But who'd be our bait?" Daphne asked. Everyone then turned and looked at Shaggy and Scooby. "Oh, no, not us!" Shaggy exclaimed. "Roh no, rot rus," Scooby echoed.

But the gang was prepared for their reluctance. "Would you do it for some Salsa favored Scooby Snacks?" Daphne asked.

"Ralsa ravored Scooby Racks?" Scooby said. "Ro roy!"

"Like, what about me?" Shaggy asked. "Don't I get any?"

"We got a box for each of you," Velma told them. She then handed the treats to Shaggy and Scooby.

Fred then explained the plan. Shaggy and Scooby would take the place of Bob Nickels, who lived in the frame ranch house. (Mr. Nickels was agreeable to letting Shaggy and Scooby "commandeer" his house for the night.) When the 'ghost' showed up, both would lure the spook into the Ivorson store, and into the trap Fred had set. Shaggy would wear a wireless microphone, a "wire," so the gang could hear what was going on. Shaggy would also have a wireless radio receiver in his ear, so the gang could give instructions to him. The Mystery Machine would serve as the command post for this operation.

**JUST BEFORE MIDNIGHT**

The gang had launched their "Operation Ghost Watch" stakeout just after dark. About the same time, Kathy Millens had e-mailed the information she had obtained. Velma downloaded this information and printed it out. Now it was nearly midnight, and there was no sign of a ghost, or anything else out of the ordinary. At one point, Daphne had commented that she had better things to do on a Saturday night than to be on a stakeout.

In the Nickels house, Shaggy and Scooby had spent the evening watching television. Now with it nearly midnight, the two had decided to retire for the night. "Like, if the ghost hasn't shown up by now, he'll never show up," Shaggy told Scooby.

"Reah!" Scooby replied. No sooner than Scooby said that then came a weird glow in the room. The glow dissolved into a headless ghost! "I want a head," it moaned.

"Zoinks!" yelled Shaggy. After a beat he added, "Sorry Mr. Ghost, mine's being used!"

"Rikes!" Scooby exclaimed.

"Shaggy!" came Fred's voice over Shaggy's wireless radio receiver. "It's the ghost! Lead him into our trap!"

"Like, you don't have to tell me twice!" Shaggy said, a hint of panic in his voice. "Come on Scooby, let's beat feet!"

The gang watched as Shaggy and Scooby came tearing out of the house, ran across the road, and into the farm supply store. Everyone scrambled out of the Mystery Machine in hot pursuit.

Shaggy and Scooby led the ghost into the warehouse. Shaggy avoided the loop of rope on the floor, but not Scooby! The canine stepped into the loop and got hauled up by his paws. The net dropped over Scooby, trapping him. The ghost stood below, satisfied that the trap had backfired. "HAHAHAHA!" it laughed. Right then, the gang ran into the warehouse, and was stupefied that the trap had failed. "Jeepers, we caught Scooby!" Daphne exclaimed. About that time, something amazing happened. The rope broke, dropping Scooby onto the headless ghost, trapping him! Within two seconds, everyone surrounded the two struggling in the net. Dave Dikes came running up, and put his hand on his holster, ready to pull out his pistol again if need be.

"Okay, 'Mr. Headless Ghost,' I'd advise you not to make any false moves," Dave told the "ghost."

"Anything," came the voice within the ghost suit. "Just get this mangy mutt off me!" Everyone laughed.

"Now, let's see who our ghost really is," Velma said. She pulled the costume off the perp and exclaimed, "Just as I suspected. Charles O'Donnell."

**A FEW MINUTES LATER**

The gang freed Scooby from the net, and Mr. O'Donnell was safely in custody. Velma now explained how she figured out who the culprit was.

"There was a lot of clues," she said. "They all pointed to Mr. Ivorson; the bolt cutters, the costume dye, the torch, the solder, the wire, and most importantly, the light bulb. But something bothered me about these clues; they were all too easy to find. Someone wanted us to find this evidence. After Mr. Ivorson told us about how Mr. O'Donnell here handled all his real estate dealings, I suggested we visit his office. We did, and after searching through his files, we found no incriminating evidence. That is, until I decided to search through his garbage can, and found this."

"What is it?" Fred asked.

"It's a receipt," Velma continued. "A receipt for a pair of heavy-duty bolt cutters. You know, Mr. O'Donnell, you should empty your trash more often. It can come back to haunt you!"

"Bah!" Mr. O'Donnell said, frustrated.

"There more," Velma went on. "That information I downloaded? Well, there was also a record of him purchasing some glow in the dark costume dye. That's what he used to make his ghost costume glow."

"But why did he do it?" Daphne asked.

Velma continued, "Mr. Ivorson wanted to expand his business. To do so, he needed the land Mr. Singer's and Mr. Nickels's houses sit on. But the owners wouldn't sell. So Mr. O'Donnell, taking advantage of the ghost legend, dreamed up this scheme to scare the owners away, so he could obtain their land real cheap. Then he'd turn around and sell it to Mr. Ivorson for a huge profit."

"But, like I don't get one thing," Shaggy said. "Why did he cause that train wreck?"

"It was another scare tactic," Velma said. "But he got more than he bargained for because he hadn't figured there was a tank car full of chlorine on that train. And do you want to know why he knew how to fool the signal system into thinking the switch was set for the main when it really wasn't?" She held up another printout. "When he was in college, he worked summers working for the railroad section gang. Part of his job was to install and maintain switches. He knew exactly what to do."

"But what about Mr. Ivorson?" Daphne asked. "Wasn't he in cahoots with Mr. O'Donnell?"

"There's not one speck of evidence to suggest that Mr. Ivorson authorized O'Donnell to use such illegal tactics," Velma replied. "Therefore, I'd say Mr. Ivorson had nothing to do with it. Isn't that right, Mr. O'Donnell?"

"Bah!" O'Donnell said again. "Perfectly good scheme ruined! And I would have gotten away with it…if it weren't for you meddling kids, and that mangy mutt of yours!"

"Indeed!" Velma said. She got right up in O'Donnell's face, and in a huffy tone of voice, told him: "And now let me tell you something! You almost killed my uncle and everyone in this town because of your stupid land grab! Know this: you may pay your debt to society, but you'll _never_ earn my forgiveness. So there!" Finished with her little tirade, she walked over to the gang and said, "You know, it felt real good to say that."

Dave was on his cell phone immediately, calling Kathy Millens. "Kathy, this is Dave. Discontinue surveillance on Ricky Barretto. I repeat, discontinue surveillance on Barretto. And release Jerry Ivorson with our sincerest apologies. We have a perp in custody. Thank you. Bye." Dave then went over to Velma. "You know, Velma, I really enjoyed working on this case with you," he said. "If it weren't for you, I've would of sent the wrong 'man up the river.'"

Velma blushed. "And you know, I enjoyed working with you. I'm just glad I could be of some assistance."

Dave smiled. "Do you think we'll ever work on the same case again?"

"Perhaps," Velma answered.

"Listen, I've got to finish up here, then file my report," Dave said. "Take care of yourself, Vel. And thanks for everything you and your friends have done for me on this case. Bye."

"Bye, Dave." Dave then turned and walked over to talk to the law enforcement officer who was hauling O'Donnell out of the building and off to jail. Meanwhile, the gang was congratulating Scooby for catching the villain.

"You did it Scooby!" Daphne was saying. "You caught the bad guy!"

"Rah rucks, rit was ruthing."


	8. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE **

**THE NEXT MORNING, SPRINGFIELD MEDICAL CENTER**

Velma was visiting with her Uncle John. She told him how they had caught the culprit. John was happy that the man who had done this to him would now be brought to justice. The doctors gave him even more good news; he could go home in a couple of days.

"I wish you could stay with me a while," John told his niece. "You know, look after me until I can get back on my feet again."

"You know I can't, Uncle. "I've got places to go, mysteries to solve."

"That's okay," John said. "My friends and neighbors will look after me. Don't worry about it, hon. And you know something else? I might try to visit that 'bongo drum club' you speak of. Who knows, I might find me a pretty little woman there!"

"And maybe she can teach you to dance Salsa!" Velma laughed.

"I'd like that!" John exclaimed.

"Well listen, Uncle, my friends are waiting on me so I really got to go. See at the reunion in Coolsville?"

"I'll be there with bells on," John said.

Velma got up to leave. "Bye, Uncle. Take care of yourself. And get well soon. I love you"

"Bye, hon," John said. "See you at the reunion." Then just before Velma went out of the door, he called after her, "If you see Cosmo, tell him that…I apologize for all the awful things I've said to him and about him…and that…I love him. And tell him that he's free to express any opinion he wants to around me. I may not agree with them, but I promise I'll listen to them with an open mind."

"Oh Uncle, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me!" Velma exclaimed, delighted. "I'll tell him. I gotta go. Bye."

"Bye, hon. Love you," John said.

Velma was delighted that John and Cosmo were going to finally patch things up between them. Happy, she joined Fred, Daphne, Shaggy, and Scooby in the Mystery Machine. They were ready to depart Springfield for their next adventure.

"Where are we off to now?" Daphne asked.

"Wherever mystery and adventure takes us, Daphne," Fred replied. "Wherever mystery and adventure takes us." With that, Fred started the Mystery Machine, put it in gear, and began to drive off. As the van exited the hospital parking lot, Scooby stuck his head out of the window and said: "Scooby Dooby Doo!"

**THE END**

**POST SCRIPT (DREAM SEQUENCE)**

Gil Lopez was pounding out a driving Latin beat on his congas. Next to him, Daphne was dancing to this exotic rhythm. Fred appeared and tapped Gil on the shoulder. Fred picked up one of the congas, held it above Gil's head, then swiftly pulled it down over his body until Gil's head poked through the broken drum skin. The end effect was not unlike that of a man wearing a barrel.

"Freddy!" Daphne cried, flabbergasted. "Why in heaven's name did you do that for?"

"'Cause I felt like it," Fred told her. Right then, Tom Petty's "Don't Do Me Like That" began to play. "Come on, Daph, let's dance."

As the two began to dance, Fred turns to the "camera," and in a devilish voice says, "Ain't I a stinker?"


End file.
